Getting Personal
by Maxie Kay
Summary: A WHN for the s2 episode Personal. When Kensi goes to visit Deeks after the shooting, she gets some unexpected news that makes her acknowledge her feelings for him. Sure, he was her partner, but he was always something more. He was her someone.
1. Chapter 1

Getting Personal

An NCIS: Los Angeles Fanfiction

By

Maxie Kay

_A WHN for the season 2 episode __**Personal.**_

**Chapter One: Down Among the Dead Men**

"Okay – what have you done with Deeks? Don't tell me his incessant demands for a bed bath got too much?" Kensi strolled in the familiar hospital room and smiled at the nurse who was stripping the covers off the bed.

She smiled nervously at the NCIS agent and then took a couple of steps back, putting a little more distance between them. "Did nobody tell you?"

"Tell me what? That there was no Jello on the menu today? Or he ate it all and didn't leave me any?" Kensi looked around the room and realised all the cards and flowers had gone. It looked strangely empty and impersonal.

"About Detective Deeks, I mean?"

"Nobody's told me anything, on account of the fact I've just got here. So where is he?"

"I'm really sorry, Agent Blye." The nurse held a pillow in front of her in a subconsciously protective gesture. "Somebody was supposed to get in touch with your office. I'm afraid Detective Deeks is gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Kensi Blye hit the empty bed with the flat of her hand. "How the fuck can he be gone?"

It had been a long day, a particularly bad day in fact; she was tired and she was sore and she just wanted to see Deeks before she drove home and collapsed into bed. Only he wasn't here. He was gone and she hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. All of a sudden, Kensi realised how much she had been counting on seeing him, how much she had been looking forward to seeing him. What had happened here? Since when did seeing Deeks become the highlight of her day? Only he wasn't here, he was gone. Why did that knowledge make her want to sit down in the corner of the room, throw her head back and howl?

Tonight when Kensi she went home, it would be like every other night for the past week. She would watch some mindless TV and she'd crawl into bed and beg for a dreamless night's sleep. And she had no doubt that yet again she would relive those moments when she raced across to the hospital entrance, running towards Deeks as he swayed unsteadily, his gun hanging limply from his hand, as the dark blood blossomed across the bandages that swathed his chest, and started to trickle down his torso in crimson streamss. It was like scenes from a movie that kept replaying in slow motion, only this wasn't make-believe, this was real. And no matter how many times she relived the experience, it always ended the same way. The wrong way.

She was running as fast as she could, her eyes never leaving the tanned figure wearing just a pair of blue scrub pants, the shaggy hair falling across his face in disarray. As she sprinted, Kensi could see the blood drain out of Deeks' face, and had to watch as she saw his legs began to collapse from underneath him. She was still too far away to do anything at the moment when the pain hit Deeks with an unmerciful force that forced a look of blank incomprehension and disbelief onto his face. If he'd been hurting before, if he'd thought the pain from the shooting was bad, it was nothing compared to the fresh hell that was battering his body now.

And when she'd finally closed the distance between them, her breath coming in hard, fast gasps, the blood thundering through her veins and her heart beating so fast it felt as if it was about to burst out of her chest, when she was finally beside him, Deeks had collapsed into her arms with something akin to relief and a faint sigh that almost sounded like "Kensi", only said so softly that it could have floated away like a puff of thistledown on a spring breeze. It was of absolutely no consequence that Kensi had forcibly elbowed a nurse out of the way in order to get to Deeks: this was her partner and she had the right to be there. This was the man who had saved her life, so she needed to be there. This was the man who had risked his life to save her, of course she had to be there. Above all, more important than anything, this was Marty Deeks and more than anything, Kensi wanted to be there.

"I think I've really done it this time." His words were so faint that Kensi struggled to hear them, she had to bend forward so that her ear was close to his mouth, so that her face was pressing against his and the soft golden stubble was brushing gently against her skin.

"You'll be fine." She wrapped her arms around him, trying to ignore the metallic tang of blood that floated upwards. She took hold of his hand and noticed that there was a thin trickle of blood running down the inside of his forearm, coming from the sight where he'd torn out the IV. More than anything else, that nearly did for her resolve to stay strong, the evidence of how desperate he had been to get to her, as demonstrated by a small rivulet of blood that was as nothing compared to the much heavier flow from his chest wounds.

"Ma'am? You have to let us help him." People were crowding around them know, pushing at Kensi as she sat on the sidewalk cradling Deeks in her arms. She rasied her head and glared ferociously at them, tightening her grip on him, feeling the satiny smooth sensation of his skin under her fingers, caressing him as a lover might.

"Don't feel fine." Deeks tried to smile, but the effort was too much. His eyes were wide and round, but they were also clouded and confused. The pain was coming in unceasing waves now, each one higher and more brutal than the next and nothing he did could halt their progress. It was easier if he didn't try to fight it. His head started to drop forward, and Kensi raised her arm to cradle it against her breasts, hugging him to her. She buried her face in his hair and for a moment she could have sworn that she could smell the ocean.

"Oh Marty." There were hands trying to pull him out of her arms, voices telling her to get out of the way, a solid wall of people surrounding them, but for Kensi the whole world was condensed into the immediate reality of the man lying silently in her arms. The man she'd led out here, who had sacrificed himself for her. She held onto him as if she would never let him go, as if he were a crucifix.

The hands were tugging insistently at her now, the voices were shrill and demanding and almost without thinking Kensi shifted her hold on Deeks, so that she was supporting his body against her own, her right arm taking his weight so that his head rested against her shoulder. He was lying almost prone across her legs, his body limp and supplicant, his face relaxed and almost composed. Kensi looked at him and wondered why she wasn't crying. As she raised her face upwards in despair, the crowd suddenly parted and Sam appeared, standing tall and strong, blocking the sun out, so that the day was dark. It was only when the hands reached out and took Deeks from her arms that Kensi finally began to cry.

Each night since that afternoon, Kensi had replayed the incident over again in her head. And each time she reached the end, she sobbed fresh tears. Only when she lying alone in her bed at night, there was neither Sam nor Callen to comfort her, there was no-one to hold her and tell her that it would be alright, that Deeks would be alright.

Kensi had thought the nightmares were been bad, but this new reality was much worse. Now she found herself standing in a hospital room faced with the knowledge that Deeks was gone. Once again, she was alone. When it came right down to it, she was always alone. Tonight, when she went home to her empty apartment, it would be like every other night for the past week: she would relive it all over again, every single second. Only this time, she would know how it really ended. And now that she knew, there would be no tears, for she was pitched past grief. Things had simply ceased to have any meaning whatsoever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: This Is The Way the World Ends**

_Wow! thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, story alerts and favourite story markers - you know how to make a writer very happy indeed. Not to mention the insane amount of hits this is getting. So, here is a little more to be going on with_

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><p>"He's really gone?" Kensi asked falteringly. "When? Was it sudden?"<p>

The nurse put down the pillow and moved around the bed to stand beside her. "It was just after midday. We had no idea – it just came totally out of the blue."

That was one small ray of consolation: if it had been quick, then surely that meant he hadn't suffered? Kensi didn't think she could have borne it if the nurse had told that Deeks had been in pain at the end, that he'd died screaming in agony. She'd seen enough of his pain and suffering over the past week, enough to last a lifetime. It _had_ lasted the entire last week of his life. That wasn't right. If Deeks had to die suddenly like this, then at least he should have been allowed some fun beforehand. He should have gone out on a high, riding his surfboard on the crest of a wave and then crashing into oblivion. Now, that would have been a fitting end. But to die in a hospital room that was already being prepared for its next occupant, that wasn't right – that wasn't Deeks. He should be here, making some bad joke about them not even letting the bed cool down.

No, it was much better to think that his death had been quick and he'd simply slipped out of life and into another realm altogether. Kensi couldn't bear to think that he might have been crying out in pain at the end, dying without anyone who loved him by his side. But that was the truth: gregarious Deeks hadn't even had anyone to put down as his next of kin. He'd been without anyone who mattered to say goodbye to him, to wish him well, to hold his hand until it grew cold. And Kensi had seen the unpleasant reality of death too many times to be able to fool herself that he'd just fallen asleep. Because death was invariably nasty and painful, with people choking to death on their own blood, or gasping desperately for breath as their systems shut down slowly. It was rare to find anyone who was resigned to death, or who greeted it like an old friend they'd been waiting for. But Deeks was just bloody-minded enough to be the exception. She hoped he was. Or rather that he had been.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Deeks was far too young to die; he was too full of life just to disappear in the blink of an eye, when she wasn't even there. Kensi knew she should have been there – she should have been there for him. Deeks was dead because he had been there for her – he'd put her safety above his own well-being and he'd died as a result. The least she could have done was to have been there for him at the end. Only she'd let him down, again.

And the worst thing of all was that Kensi knew all this was pointless – it could have so easily been avoided. If only she had listened to him, just waited a few seconds more, then she wouldn't have gone haring off like a scalded cat, convinced that she, and she alone could save the world single-handedly. A few days ago, Deeks had called her Wonder Woman – and he'd been right. Kensi knew she was inclined to think she was bullet-proof, but it was only now that she realised what pressure this put on her partner. My God, Deeks had been shot twice in the chest only hours before and then because of her stupidity and her refusal to acknowledge that he might actually have something valuable to say, Kensi had basically forced him out of his hospital bed. If only he'd just stayed put, then this wouldn't have happened. If only he hadn't been such a nice guy and left her to look after herself, he'd be lying there in that bed right now, bitching about how she only came to see him so that she could help herself to his Jello. Kensi didn't think she would ever be able to look at a helping of Jello ever again without seeing his engaging grin, the trademark shaggy hair that just seemed to cry out to have her hands run through it, and those eyes, that looked at her as if he could see straight into her soul. Her cursed soul.

"We'll all miss Marty," the nurse said. "He was such a nice guy." _And he had a bod from God. Every time I came in, and saw him lying there, bare-chested and looking good enough to eat, my heart used to do a back-flip. There are some patients you forget the moment they leave, there are others you wish would go to another hospital, preferably on the other side of the country, and then there are the ones you'll always remember – and Marty was one of the good guys. I miss him already._

It was all her fault, Kensi realised. Deeks had only been shot in the first place, simply as a means of getting to Kensi – only nobody had worked that one out. Instead they'd concentrated their efforts on telling Deeks that he didn't come up to their professional standards, that he'd been sloppy. Well, that was a joke. In the end, when it came right down to it, NCIS had fumbled the ball completely, and the amateur from LAPD had scored the winning touchdown. Talk about Death or Glory. Hetty had already put in a recommendation for a commendation, but it looked like it would be posthumous. So, it was Death _and_ Glory for Deeks then. That would probably please him. He was a pretty wholesale sort of guy, after all.

No that was wrong – Deeks wasn't anything anymore, because he was dead. She had to start thinking of him in the past tense. He was dead and she was alive, because he cared enough – or perhaps because he cared too much. It was a moot point, either way. Kensi knew she was alive because he was a great shot, even when he was half-bleeding to death. Oh God, she couldn't stop thinking about him in the present, he simply wouldn't go into the past, where he belonged. In her mind, Kensi could see him standing there, tanned skin standing out in stark contrast to the white bandages around his chest, blond hair blowing in the wind, looking insanely hot despite everything. Only he was dead and she'd killed him.

He shouldn't have gone like that, not without giving her a chance to say goodbye, to say all the things that had been running around her head for weeks now.

_You were always an annoying bastard, Deeks. You always know exactly how to wind me up. Well, this isn't funny. You had no right to die like that. You should have waited for me. There were things I needed to say to you. There was so much I wanted to say to you. Why couldn't you just wait, you stupid, stupid man? Did you know how much I loved you? Did you guess? Are you laughing at me now?_

"Hey Deeks!" Callen strolled into the room, holding a magazine triumphantly aloft. "I'm going to make your day here, buddy. I've managed to get my hands on a collector's edition of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue – the 1983 one, with Cheryl Tiegs on the cover." He caught sight of Kensi's face. "Aw come on, don't be a spoilsport. Deeks will love it. You know he will."

And of course, he was bloody right – Deeks would have loved it. He would have sat up in bed and reached out, his face lighting up and he would have made some totally inappropriate remark. She would have loved for that to happen – she would even have forgiven him in a second, just because he was alive and laughing. She might even have laughed. Oh, the sweet wisdom of hindsight

"He's gone, Callen. Deeks died."

_This is the way the world ends_

_Not with a bang, but with a whimper._

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><p><em>Lines from The Hollow Men by TS Eliot (of course).<em>

_Poor darling slushy plot bunny has been crying all day. Between sobs he keeps saying "you killed Deeks" and evil plot bunny just laughs at him._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Go Your Own Way**

It took a few seconds for Kensi's words to sink in, for his brain to process what she was saying and then the realisation hit Callen with a force that literally made him take a step backward, followed by another, and then another, until he could go no further because his back was pressed hard against the door. The magazine dropped from his nerveless fingers and fell to the floor, where Cheryl lay smiling invitingly up at him.

_He would have loved that picture. Only he's dead. Deeks is dead._

It didn't make sense, no matter which way Callen tried to look at it. How the hell could Deeks be dead? He'd been fine that morning. Well, not exactly fine, but doing pretty well, all things considered. After all, if you'd been shot twice, had surgery twice, lost half your blood volume in blood and collapsed a lung into the bargain, it stood to reason that you wouldn't exactly be dancing in the hallways, but Deeks had bounced back pretty quickly after the first couple of days, which had contained all the constituent parts of a full-blown nightmare. Watching as the emergency staff worked on him, trying to stop the bleeding from wounds ripped open, having to stand there and watch as the doctor had picked up a scalpel and cut into Deeks side and literally inserted his finger into the incision to make sure it was large enough to accommodate the tube that would re-inflate his lung and hearing the guttural groan Deeks tried to choke back: that had been surreal. They had stood at the side of the ER, he and Sam had made sure Kensi was nestled protectively between them, and they seen it all unfold before their eyes, like some horror film. When Deeks was eventually decreed to be stable enough for surgery and wheeled off, none of them had been able to say anything, or do anything other than to move a little closer to each other. Sometimes all you could do was just be there.

It shouldn't have happened like this. That was the rub, the crux of the matter. Deeks hadn't been shot because he was careless, as they had so callously assumed – he'd been shot because he was a target. Subsequent events had shown that it didn't matter how careful you were, how often you changed your routine or even if you were constantly on the balls of your feet and ready to run, if someone wanted to shoot you, they would find a way. And the irony was that both times it had been Kensi who had been the actual target, and she'd walked away without a scratch on her. But then now she had wounds that didn't show, she would always be scarred by this.

The first shooting had been bad, no doubt about it. Taking two bullets to the chest was never going to be any fun, no matter if they were low calibre: they still ripped through flesh and bone, destroyed blood vessels and arteries, caused immense amounts of pain. And while a couple of hours in surgery might have repaired the initial damage, then there was the aftermath of the anaesthesia drugs running around your body that you had to get rid of. The first time Callen and Sam had come into the hospital, Deeks had been pretty out of it, unable to stop a look of hurt and confusion registering in his eyes when they'd basically told him it had been his own damned fault that he'd been shot. Looking back, that had been a shitty thing to do, like kicking him in the teeth. There were other, more important things they should have said, like telling him they were glad he was going to be alright, asking how he was, making sure he knew how worried they were about him. The very least they could have done was to make sure Deeks knew he was one of them that he was part of the team. How in God's name were they going to manage without him? Deeks was going to leave a huge hole that could never be filled.

The first thing Callen was going to do when he went back to the Mission was to insist their desks were all moved around. He didn't care howthey were placed, or even where – but they were going to move. Because nobody was EVER going to sit in Deeks' old position, because nobody could ever fill his shoes. If Sam had felt bad about Dom's empty desk, then Callen felt a million times worse about this. Dom had tried hard, he'd been a nice kid, but he'd been out of his depth: outclassed, outmanoeuvred. Basically he'd been like a kindergarten kid wanting to play with the big boys, trying hard but never hitting the mark. Even Hetty had admitted she had made a mistake bringing Dom into the team. In the end, Dom had been more of a liability than an asset. In some ways, it had actually been a relief when Dom had died, because they no longer had to deal with the elephant in the room or ask the question _"what are we going to do about Dom?"_ Nobody had admitted out loud that Dom wasn't working out as a team member, that he didn't really contribute anything, but they'd all knew it. For a moment Callen wondered if Dom had realised that too, and then he decided it didn't really matter, because Dom was dead. And now Deeks was dead too. Two dead team members in one year – that was a lousy track record. Maybe it was time to make a change?

_Damn you, Deeks. You've gone and torn us apart. Things can never be the same now – I think I'm going to have to break up the team now. Why did you have to go and die, you selfish bastard?_

A new realisation struck Callen: he was going to have to tell Hetty. That was something he couldn't shirk – he was the team leader, it was his responsibility. It was probably the last thing he could do for Deeks. No doubt about it, this was going to hit Hetty hard. There was some sort of connection between her and Deeks that Callen had never quite understood; in fact he'd deliberately shied away from asking too much. Hetty could do a remarkably good version of being like a tortoise and simply retreating from questions she did not want to answer. She had deliberately brought Deeks into the team and simply insisted that things were going to work out, that he would complement their existing zeitgeist, add to it, make them better, more effective. Well, he'd done that alright. From the first moment he'd set foot in the Mission, Deeks had challenged them and all the while he'd refused to compromise his own irreverence. It had been like watching a scruffy mongrel gate-crash a group of pedigree Salukis, insistent that he was just as good as they were and promptly starting to run rings around them all, barking and wagging his tail all the time. Now it was clear that he'd been right all along, in fact, Deeks had turned out to be the better man who had outclassed them all in the end. He shouldn't have bloody died, there was so much more he could have done.

This was going to destroy Hetty, Callen thought. And it looked like it was already doing a pretty good job on Kensi. But then Kensi had a bit of a thing for Deeks – they'd all known it, all teased her about it. He wondered if Deeks had realised that? The guy must have been used to women hitting on him all the time, what with his tall, tanned good looks, the surfer's hair and body, the lazy lope that could change in action in the blink of an eye. Surely Deeks must have known? He couldn't have missed all the sideways glances, the way she flicked her hair or swung her hips when he was around?

"What the fuck did he want to go and die for?" Callen asked bitterly. Kensi just looked at him uncomprehendingly, for there were some things that defied logic and could never be answered, no matter how often you asked the question.

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><p><em>Evil plot bunny is now sitting in the garden making a daisy chain and singing "Que Sera" in his best Doris Day impersonation. He really is remarkably heartless.<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Desperately Seeking Deeks**

"I don't know," Kensi replied, brushing away a tear, only for another one to take its place, followed by another one until tears were dripping down her face and she was no longer even attempting to stop their progress.

"I'm so sorry," the nurse said, in heartfelt tones.

"Thank you." Callen tried to smile, but his heart wasn't in it.

"No – you don't understand. I'm sorry, because I've given you both the wrong idea. When I said Detective Deeks was gone, that was exactly what I meant – that he left the hospital." She looked shamefaced and embarrassed.

"He _what_?" Callen demanded.

"We tried to stop him, but he was insistent that he wanted to leave. We tried to make him understand that he needed to stay, but I guess you know what he can be like?"

"Oh we do," Kensi said darkly. "Stubborn isn't the word, but right now, it'll have to do." _Just you wait, Marty Deeks, because I'm going to kill you. When I get my hands on you I'm going to… well, actually I'm going to grab hold of you, pull you to me, run my hands through your freaking gorgeous hair and then I'm going to kiss you like you've never been kissed before in your life._

"He checked out against medical advice?"

The nurse nodded and Callen sighed. It was typical Deeks, he realised. They really should have expected nothing less. "I don't suppose he said where he was going?" _Because I'm going to find that idiot and then I'm going to drag him back here, even supposing I have to physically carry him back myself._

"Not a word. But a lady came by with some clothes for him and then drove him away." _And I didn't even get the chance to ask for his phone number._

"Typical Deeks. No doubt one of his many admirers." Callen took hold of Kensi's arm and propelled her out of the door. "Come on. We'd better go and check he's okay, taking his pain pills and so on."

"Why did he want to go and do something stupid like that for?" She was struggling with a cocktail of emotions: elation that Deeks was alive, annoyance that he'd bailed out with saying a word to any of his team and, overwriting all of that, concern that he should still be here in the hospital.

"This is Deeks we're talking about, Kensi. You know, the guy who never likes to make things easy for himself or anyone else. The man who can never keep his mouth shut. We should have seen it coming. And he's probably gone a bit stir crazy, being stuck in here for so long." _I can't exactly blame him. I remember feeling exactly the same after I was shot last year. It got to the stage where I'd forgotten what fresh air smells like. _"I'm going to shoot by his apartment and make sure he's okay. And then I'm going to call Hetty and make her come over and knock some sense into that head of his. If that doesn't put the frighteners up Deeks, I don't know what will. Except maybe getting Sam over to mangle the English language a bit more. That always winds Deeks up a treat. Are you coming? It should be worth watching."

"He won't be there." Kensi couldn't say how she knew this, but she was completely certain. "I'm going to drive around a bit, see if I can track him down. I'll call you if I find him."

"Come on, Kensi – Deeks is a big boy. He can take care of himself." _Yeah, right. That's why I'm going over to his apartment._

"I know. But I'll feel better if I can talk to him myself, just to make sure, you know?" _Are you kidding, Callen? He's got to be as weak as a puppy. He needs someone to look after him. And that someone should be me._

The lady was clearly not for turning. "Have it your way. But don't drive around all night. You need to get some rest too." _You're not going to listen to a word I say, are you?_

"I'll be fine." _Of course I will be, once I find him._

Kensi had a fair idea of where she would find her partner, knowing how his mind worked. Deeks' practically lived at the beach whenever he wasn't working. The question was: which beach? It was unlikely that he'd be at Santa Monica, it was too near the Mission. Without quite knowing why, she drove up towards Malibu, scanning the roadside for any familiar looking vehicles. It was too much to hope this "lady" friend had driven Deeks' car, she realised and wondered if this was just a wild goose chase.

_I must be mad. He could be anywhere and I could be at home right now, sitting with my feet up and drinking a beer and watching all those episodes of _Gossip Girl_ I've recorded. I'll give it another ten minutes and if there's no sign of him, then I'm going home. He's probably fine. In fact, I bet he's tucked up in bed right now, with that "lady" right beside him. _

Fifteen minutes later, she was still driving along the coast road, and the sun was starting to sink down into the ocean.

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><p><em>Thank you to everyone who has taken the time and trouble to read and review this story. However, one person left a rather mean-spirited review, criticising the way I have chosen to let events unfold in this story. So, for "<strong>writingitalldown<strong>" (who ironically doesn't appear to be a writer on ffnet!) as I cannot contact you privately, I hope that when you take the plunge to put your thoughts and ideas out there for people to read, you write stories in the way you choose. I have deliberately chosen to write this story as an introspective, to allow me explore the thoughts and feeling of the characters and to introduce events by way of reflection, rather than in a straightforward linear storyline.  
>I'm not doing this for profit – I put a <strong>lot<strong> of time and effort into writing simply because I love telling a story. And I'm going to keep telling my stories the way I want to. Simples, as the meercat says._

_Rant over! (but evil plot bunny is not a happy bunny at the moment)._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: On the Beach**

_Thank you so much to everyone who sent their messages of support against the rogue reviewer. I was overwhelmed by your support. While I'm not going to be pushed out of doing what I love because of the unkind words of one individual, I'd be foolish to pretend that their words did not wound – but of course, that was their intention. Let's remember this is supposed to be fun and encourage people to share their thoughts and stories. And bear in mind the maxim "first do no harm". There are other writers on this site for whom a review of that nature could dent their confidence so badly they never posted again. _

Okay – on with the story!

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><p>The tide was on the turn and only a few hard-core surfers were still out riding the waves. Deeks sat on the beach, bare feet planted in the sand and his arms wrapped around his knees, absorbed in watching their progress and savouring the fresh breeze that blew in from the ocean. Already his mind felt clearer, his soul a little calmer. But it wasn't enough. Deep inside him, Deeks knew that something was missing. He just couldn't quite put his finger on what that something was though. It would come to him though, if he just sat here for long enough.<p>

"I knew it! Only you would walk out of the hospital to go freeze your butt off on the beach."

Deeks recognised the voice instantly, and didn't need to turn around to see who was approaching. Why did she think he had come here, if not for some solitude? Seven days in hospital, breathing in stale, overheated air, never having any privacy or independence was enough to make anyone run for the hills. Or the beach, in his case. Only she'd found him. Strangely, it was almost as if he'd been expecting her, as if all this was pre-ordained.

"Hi, Kensi. You want to add mind-reading to your long list of skills?"

"Don't be like that. I was worried about you." She sat down beside him and laid her head briefly on his shoulder. Deeks was surprised at how good that simple gesture felt and almost felt a pang of regret when it only lasted for a fleeting second, almost as if she regretted the impulse.

"You were worried?" he asked curiously. "Why?" The sky was turning to deepest apricot, shot through with lemon and vermillion and the sun was sinking down toward the ocean in a fiery ball of flame that turned to waves to deepest purple. Deeks was suddenly overcome by the notion of running down across the wide sands and flinging himself into the water, until he shifted position slightly and had to stifle an inadvertent groan as the familiar pain flared intensely through his chest. Involuntarily, almost automatically he leaned in towards Kensi, whose body readily accommodated his without a murmur.

"Because you're in pain, Deeks. No matter how hard you try to hide it. You're not well enough to be out here. You should be in hospital."

"I feel fine." Deeks bowed his head, picked up a handful of sand and let it trickle slowly through his fingers, still leaning against her, feeling her warmth on his skin.

"That's the drugs talking." Kensi let her fingers ghost across his bare torso, tenderly feeling each one of the three scars; two on his chest, the other high on his side. He sat motionless under her touch, but Kensi saw his eyes close briefly and he made no effort to stop her, no sound of protest. "You nearly died, Marty." Her voice broke when she said his name.

He couldn't remember if she'd ever called him by his first name before, and he couldn't work out if that signified anything, or nothing at all. "I blew it, you mean." Her fingers continued their dance across his body and he was unable to control the shudder that rippled across his muscles in their wake.

"No, you didn't. You were awesome. I'm the one who messed everything up."

"You're my partner," he said simply. Her hand was caressing him openly now and for a moment Deeks wondered if this was real or another of those morphine dreams, and then he decided that it didn't matter. So what if this was too good to be true? It just _was_, and right now that was enough.

"We're partners. Joined together, whether we like it or not." Kensi's voice was low and husky and she bent her head to drop a feather-light kiss on the highest scar.

"I like it. I like it a lot." Her lips felt as if she was branding him and his skin burned where her lips had been.

Kensi turned her face to look up at him and saw the familiar smile she'd missed so much, but this time it was indefinably different, because there was something in his eyes, something in the way he was looking down at her that defied explanation. Because this was Deeks, her partner and he didn't feel that way about her. It was only in her dreams that he smiled at her in that way – that knowing way, with an expectant look on his face. "So do I."

There was a time to be cautious and a time to throw caution to the winds, a time to ride out beyond the breakers and to trust your luck that the waves would take you safely to shore and at the same time give you the most exhilarating ride of your life. This was one of those times, Kensi realised as she reached up, put one hand on the back of his neck and drew his head down towards her. As kisses go, this one was right up there with the all-time greats, she thought. The instant their lips met, almost hesitantly, as if neither was quite sure if this was actually going to happen, it was as if there was a spark of electricity flying between their bodies. The soft pressure of lips joining and then parting made her head swirl giddily and when his tongue slipped into her mouth, Kensi could not repress a soft groan of delight.

"You were right," she said, when she'd finally recovered her breath enough to talk. "You do feel fine." Lying on the sand, with her head on his lap, his hand gently stroking her hair and looking up at his face, bathed in the last rays of the sun, watching his golden hair being whipped by the wind, felt like it was heaven on earth.

Deeks grinned down at her, and remembered the look on her face the first time she'd seen him without his shirt on. Mind you, he hadn't been wearing any pants then either. Kensi had looked as if she was going to leap into his arms there and then. This moment had been a long time coming, but it was awful nice. It felt like paradise. There was just one thing that was bugging him. "How the hell did you find me, Kensi? There's miles of beach in LA. How did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. I was just going to keep on driving until I found you. And then I saw this beat up old Jeep, with a faded orange paint job and a sticker that said "Surfers do it standing up". Basic detective work. Aren't you proud of me?" _I would have kept going all night. And the next night too. I wasn't going to let you get away. I've been fighting this for so long and I've been so stupid. I nearly lost you once when you were shot, then again when you rescued me. I wasn't going to let you get away from a third time._

"Immensely. My very own Wonder Woman." _Do you know how gorgeous you look lying there and how much I want to make love to you, right here and now?_

"Why orange?" she asked curiously.

"Who's going to steal an orange Jeep?" He sounded entirely serious and Kensi laughed in pure joy to see a flash of the familiar old Deeks. Except that everything had changed. She had changed everything, and suddenly she was overwhelmed by this new relationship, by the difference in their easy familiarity. It was as if they had switched from playing checkers to chess: the board was the same, but the rules were completely different. Suddenly, she felt scared. This was all getting too personal.

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><p><em>Nearly there now! One more chapter to go.<br>Slushy plot bunny is building a sandcastle beside them on the beach and says that Deeks has lovely feet. Clearly he has a feetish… I just think Deeks is lovely. Period. Or full stop, as we say over here in the frozen and very wet wastelands of Scotland._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: That's Enough For Me**

_All good things must come to an end – and I hope you like this ending! Slushy plot bunny certainly does. He's licking the icing off a cupcake right now and smiling fit to burst._

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><p>The wind was starting to pick up a little now as the night deepened, and the sky was turning darker by the minute. Already it was impossible to see where the ocean stopped and the sky began; the lines had first started to blur and then as time progressed the two separate elements had merged into one seamless and united entity. It was an everyday miracle, but one which gave Kensi hope.<p>

"It's getting cold. You should put on your sweater." She dropped a kiss onto his stomach and felt his skin chilly underneath her lips.

"You sound just like Caroline," he grumbled, more out of habit than anything else, and cupped her cheek with his hand, loving the way she felt; loving the way she loved him.

"Caroline?" Kensi sat up, pulled away so that she was no longer touching any part of him, literally removing herself from further temptation. _Who the hell is Caroline? _She picked up the sweater and thrust it towards him.

"That's Caroline." Deeks gestured along the beach, where an older woman was walking slowly towards them, as a small, shaggy dog danced in and out of the surf, mouth wide open in an eager smile. "She's known me all my life and still treats me as if I'm about five. On a good day." He pulled the sweater over his head and emerged looking characteristically rumpled.

"Caroline picked you up from the hospital?" It was all starting to make sense now. Kensi 's hands drifted upwards under their own volition, and she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to achieve some semblance of order; knowing it was pointless but enjoying the experience. Sometimes you just had to live in the moment.

"And she wasn't happy about it. Not happy at all. Kept telling me I was being stupid." Kensi's face was close to his and it was so easy just to kiss her again. And again. It just felt so damned right. Deeks felt as if he could go on kissing her forever and never grow tired. Farther along the beach, someone had lit a bonfire and the scent of smoke and ashes floated in the night air.

"I think I like her already. You need someone to worry about you."

"Don't I have you?" His voice was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness to the question.

"You do. I was worried out of my skull."

"Sorry." His hand was running gently down her back, hovering for a moment at her waist and then moving down to caress her ass. Kensi could feel the warmth transmitting through her jeans and realised she'd never felt so physically attuned to anyone before. "I never meant to upset you. That's the last thing I want to do."

"You even managed to get Callen all antsy."

"Callen was worried about me? Wow. I didn't think that was possible."

"There's a lot of things you don't know, Marty Deeks."

"I've been telling him that for years. Not that he listens to me." Caroline strolled up towards them. "Marty only hears what he wants to hear."

"I love you too, Caroline." Deeks tried to fend off the dog, who was intent upon jumping in this lap and licking his face.

"You must be the famous Kensi. I've heard a lot about you." Caroline surveyed her thoughtfully and Kensi could feel a hot colour suffuse her face. "Look after him, will you? Don't let him be too reckless."

"He's my partner – we look out for each other. That's how it works." As she spoke, Kensi realised the simple truth behind the words. They were bound together already, by a relationship that had been forced upon them, but which had developed into something neither of them were able to deny. And while that was quite terrifying, she felt that they were destined to be together, as if it had been written in the stars that were starting to stud the night sky with their brilliance.

"I'm glad to hear it. He's been turning my hair grey with worry."

"Why are you talking about me as if I'm not here?" Deeks complained, having finally managed to subdue the dog's affectionate kisses. It was now lying on its back in the sand, rolling around in what seemed like ecstasy.

"Because you're incorrigible. And because you don't always recognise a good thing when it's staring you in the face." Caroline softened her words with a smile and then bent down and kissed him lightly on the top of his head. "And you're just out of hospital, Marty." Try as she might, she couldn't hide the note of concern. He looked happy, but he also looked exhausted.

"She's right. It's getting really late." Kensi scrambled to her feet and then stood stock-still, not entirely sure of what she should do next.

Deeks followed suit, but much more slowly. A wave of tiredness suddenly hit him and for a moment he weaved uneasily as the beach rolled underneath his feet. In an instant, Kensi was at his side, her arm around his waist, supporting him. For a moment Deeks thought he was back at the hospital, watching her running towards him with the most remarkable expression on her face, as if she was an avenging angel swooping down from heaven to save him for God alone knew what. The past and the present fused perfectly, as he leant against her, and realised she was right there, right beside him. For the first time in years, Marty Deeks felt safe, and more than that, he felt like he belonged.

"Take me home then," he said and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close enough so that they could kiss once again. Deeks had no idea where he was going; where they were going, but that didn't matter. Kensi was at his side and right now, that was enough. They could work out all the rest later on.

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><p><em>I hope you enjoyed this story – please let me know your thoughts. Enjoy the rest of the weekend.<em>


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Goodnight My Someone**

_Okay – I know I said chapter six was the end, but I was playing this song on the piano today and singing along to it, and this idea just flashed into my head. I had a little chat with slushy plot bunny and he insisted I wrote it down and shared it with you all. So here is a little "added extra"…_

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><p>By the time they had walked slowly across the sand and then navigated up the dunes, Deeks was definitely beginning to regret his impetuous decision to leave the hospital. His legs were trembling so much that he was seriously wondering if he could manage the dozen or so steps remaining, when a shout made him lift his head wearily.<p>

"You look like shit," Sam said jovially. "We really need to talk to Hetty about getting a real man on the team, Callen, not some pretty boy who can't shoot straight." He took Deeks' free arm and gently slung it around his shoulder, being careful not to pull on his damaged chest muscles.

Callen eased Kensi aside and followed suit with Deeks' other arm. "She said he was the best they had to offer. Or was that "all they had to offer"? Not that it matters, because I guess we're stuck with him."

"I guess. Free offer or not, he did take a bullet for the team. So we're definitely stuck with him." They walked at a snail's pace towards the Jeep, seeing how much effort each step cost him, even when they were taking as much strain as his injured body could cope with.

"Two bullets." Deeks heaved a sigh of relief as they eased him into the passenger seat and then held up two fingers for emphasis. "I counted. One. Two." _I thought there was going to be a third and that would be the shot that killed me. I still wake up in the middle of the night, waiting for that third shot. _

"We'll work on getting you counting all the way up to ten when you're back on duty. And, next time you want to go paddling, don't play hookey from hospital, okay?" Sam leant in close. "We'll score you a day pass from the nice doctors and maybe even buy you an ice cream before we return you. But right now, you've got to get your butt back there, because you look like you've just crawled out of your grave."

"Hot and cold running nurses. Bedbaths. Prescription meds. Morphine. What more could a man want?" Callen tried to make light of the matter.

"I'm not going back there. I'm going home," Deeks said stubbornly.

"Don't pout, Marty. Your friends are talking sense. You really should be back in the hospital." Caroline placed her hand on his knee. "I'm worried about you."

"We all are." Kensi smiled at him. "But I think he needs to go home more than he needs to go to the hospital."

Deeks blinked a couple of times and looked into her eyes for the merest second, wondering how she could read his mind. "That's right."

"I bet you live on the tenth floor and the elevator's out of commission," Sam bitched. "Well, you can do the fireman's lift, Callen because my back's started to play up."

It didn't come to that, thankfully, because the elevator was working and the apartment was only on the fourth floor anyway.

"Nice place." Callen wasn't big on home décor, but this was kind of tasteful and not what he'd expected. For some reason, he'd always thought Deeks would hang out in a superannuated version of a frat house. He clocked the expensive Italian coffee machine on the countertop and allowed himself a smile.

"It's alright. Close to the beach, you know?" Deeks nodded to a door at the end of the hall. "Bedroom's in there."

"You sure that bed's big enough?" They lowered him carefully down and then Sam knelt on the floor, untied his shoe laces and pulled them off. "At least there isn't a mirror above it, I suppose."

"It's getting delivered next week." He lay back on the pillows with relief, and realised how much this had taken out of him and shut his eyes with relief, secure in the knowledge that he was finally back home and didn't have to move for the next few hours. "Thanks, guys."

"Any time. But we're not taking your pants off, so don't even bother asking."

"No – we'll leave that little treat for Kensi." There was no reaction, because Deeks had fallen asleep. Callen pulled a quilt over him and then shut the door quietly behind him.

"You'll make someone a wonderful wife one day."

"Are you proposing? Why Sam, I never knew you felt that way about me." Callen saw the strange looks Kensi and Caroline were giving him and schooled his face into submission. "He's out for the count. You want me to stay over? It's no problem."

"I was planning on staying. I've brought an overnight bag with me. Unless…?" Caroline looked at Kensi.

"That sounds like a good idea. I've got an early start in the morning anyway." Kensi regretted the words the instant they left her mouth, but what other option did she have, what with Sam and Callen standing there, both looking as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths and fooling nobody. "I'll try and come over though."

Caroline brushed her lips across the younger woman's cheek. "You do that," she whispered. "I think Marty will want to see you."

Amazingly enough, she wasn't ribbed unmercifully on the way back down to the street. Neither Callen or Sam made a single comment, other than to tell her to drive carefully, and remind Kensi that it was her turn to buy the pastries in the morning. The streets were almost empty as she drove home, singing along at the top of her voice to the radio. She had no idea where this was going to lead and she wasn't even sure exactly what had happened, but it didn't seem to matter, because her heart was bouncing with joy and she was living in the moment. Sometimes, that was the best thing to do. Deeks was still here, he was still her partner, it was just that now he was something else, and she couldn't quite work out what that was. He wasn't her boyfriend and he certainly wasn't her lover – not yet, at any rate. So what was he then? Her someone? She had just lain her head on the pillows where her cell rang and a familiar name flashed up on the screen.

"Hey, Kensi. It's me."

"Hey you. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I am in bed."

"So I am." She snuggled under the covers and cradled the phone against her ear.

"You wearing anything?"

Kensi smiled in the darkness and curled up like a cat. "I'm wearing enough. You should be asleep."

"I will be soon. They gave me these amazing pills that pretty much knock me out. But I just wanted to say goodnight."

There was something about the fact they were both lying in bed, talking to each other, even if they were in separate beds and miles apart, that seemed, well special. It was the next best thing to being curled up beside him. "Goodnight, Marty. Sleep well. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Promise?" There was an uncertain note in his voice that was uncharacteristic. But maybe he was just exhausted?

"I promise. Goodnight."

"Night."

The call ended and Kensi lay looking at the screen for a long time. A tune she could first remember her mother singing way back in her childhood started running around in her head and she was singing again, singing very softly indeed, almost underneath her breath.

"Goodnight, my someone, good night, my love."

That was it: that was who he was – Deeks was her someone. It all finally made sense. Kensi was still smiling when she fell asleep.

**The End**

_Really the end this time - I promise!_


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